Hanging Out

See Spot Run

Watch that cute finger.

Word of the Day: BLUNDER

I received this email two days ago:

Dear SAN DIEGO-CORONADO SHARKFEST swimmer,

Congratulations on your entry in the 2nd annual SAN DIEGO-CORONADO SHARKFEST SWIM, scheduled for Sunday, September 19, 2010. You will be swimming 1 mile across San Diego Harbor from the 5th Avenue Landing in San Diego to the foot of the Coronado Bridge on Coronado Island.

Shark fest? Me? In two days? I did not register for this event. However, the tone of the email was so commanding, I almost priced flights to San Dig.

I promptly emailed Keriann - recently moved to San Diego and asked if she was playing a trick on me.

She said no.

Briton said, "Check the credit card statement."

Which I promptly didn't.

The next day I received this email:

Dear Athletes,
I apologize if you received our previous San Diego-Corondao Entrant Newsletter email in error. It was accidentally sent to the wrong list. Please excuse our blunder. See you at the next race!

Best,
Enviro-Sports

I'll excuse the mixed pronouns and typo in the email for two reasons:

1) Ego: I enjoyed being addressed as an Athlete. Looking at this birthin' body o' three children, athlete would not be the first thing you would think of (Domestic Goddess? Yes. Athlete? No.).

2) Word choice: "blunder"

Disclaimer: Do not dismiss Enviro-Sports as an event organizer based on this email blunder or this post. We've run in their Muir Woods event and it was a sublime experience. Also, they started the event with everyone singing the national anthem. And first-place prize was a rubber chicken.

Mt Ranier

We met up with some friends on Labor Day weekend.


Longmire area. It used to be a natural springs resort. The springs still spring forth. We went on a little nature walk around the meadow.
Since we only had one day at Ranier, we then busted out another hike to some waterfalls before setting up camp.

I realize we don't have any pictures of the friends we were camping with, but they really were there and we had a lot of fun with them. They also cooked up some delicious dutch oven desserts.

Home, Home, on the Range.

Briton did it.

Our oven has been quite temper(ature)mental lately. The door alignment got out of whack so it requires some forceful jimmying to open. Briton, being the chivalrous chap that he is, had me step back one day this past week, so he could open the door for me as I was about to put in some cinnamon rolls (don't fret, dears ... they came from a can, left-over from camping).

He flexed his biceps (really) and started to jimmy that door. It wouldn't budge. So he jimmied harder. And lo, an earth-shattering, er, glass-shattering noise. Evidence above. He got all cut up about it (also see above). (No stitches required). I was not, however, cut up. I am over-joyed. Because this means new oven.

The story gets hotter, though. A couple days later I was heating up something on the stovetop (because that part still works). The crockpot was behind the pan. I went to turn on the crockpot and was like, "Dude! Where'd the knob go?" Then, I was like, "Heyyyy ... what's all this goopy black stuff?"

Today I called Crock-Pot. The original crock-pot guys. The website said there were no replacement knobs available and to call the company. So I did. The customer service guy double-checked about a replacement knob. Then he asked, "What happened to the original knob?"

"It melted," I said. (completely honestly, innocently, and with no ulterior motive).

"Well," said the guy, "your product is still under warranty. We'd like to send you a replacement crock-pot. Is white okay?"

This is the part where I fully disclose that deep, deep, deep (very deep) inside my soul a little voice spelled it out for me: "Robin. He thinks the crockpot melted the knob itself. Tell him this is not so. Tell him about that hot pan resting against the knob."

Then, this is the part where I tell you what happened next in the story.

I said, "Su-uuuure. White would be fine."

What would you have done?

P.S. I gave the guy glowing reviews on the short customer service survey that followed.

Deep In Tillamook Forest...

...a camping trip unfolds. We spent a couple days with these good folks. A collective pact determined we'd consume as much sugar as possible in a 24 hour period. It started with those giant marshmallows and only improved from there.

Grant (8 mo.), Hazel (3 mo.), and Clara (5 mo.). Not pictured: 40 other children. And Stephanie.

A lunch stop at the Forestry Center (cheesecake, cupcakes - a happy B-day nod to Dave) before heading to Tillamook for ... ice cream cones. Double scoop.
If you ever want a really relaxing, easy camping trip, go with these sisters. They will plan all the meals, fix them, reserve the campsites, sing prettily, take your kids hiking, make you laugh and tell some good stories. Wait? Is that more cheesecake in the foreground of that picture???

We parted company after the ice cream. Sufficiently carbo-loaded, it was now time for my scheduled long-run (Briton was smart and ran earlier that morning). The beach was beckoning but my spirit was saturated with simple sugars. It was a beautiful run. But very, very slow.

H2C and Solids

Briton ran Hood to Coast with a speedy Intel team: Quad Corps. That's a clever pun because Intel has quad core processors (whatever in the heck that means) but this was a corps of runners (quad muscles being key). And like all puns the humor dissipates with the explanation. So, uh ... moving on ... He had fun.

Next up: Clara. She's sixth months old already, folks. Time to mix things up a bit with a little rice cereal facial.

Another day this Tea Party was occurring in the Garden Room:
Tal and Syd have spent a lot of time playing together lately. I think it's because they share a room now. For the most part it's pretty cooperative. Talmage avoids the role of Mrs. Nesbitt by taking on manly tasks like maneuvering furniture and packing (they were about to leave on a trip to Africa).

A Heather-cane

You know how Heather & Rick live on the east coast. While everyone else was evacuating the Outer Banks, she and Rick left the comforts of their Virginia home to watch Hurricane Earl from the front row seats of their OB beach house. They live on the edge like that. A day or so before they drove south, though, Heather was brewing her own storm, as she is wont to do when she gets an idea.

"Robin!" she calls, one morning out of the blue, en route to the fabric store, "I'm making three dresses for Sydney." (Notice: not one. not two. but three).

"Robin!" she calls, that same day, later in the afternoon, en route to the post office, "What's your address again?" They were done. All of them. In one day!!! Including CHOOSING the fabric! A sewing storm. Below are the pictures of Sydney modeling said dresses. She wore the dragonfly dress all day long and discovered, as it turns out, that it also doubles as pajamas (i.e. she refused to take it off):

Fast Asleep (mmm. looks like Syd's hair got caught in a hurricane).

The next day the flower dress had its turn. All the fabrics and notions are super cute. It makes a girl giddy! (And for those who care: the stitching is precision itself):

My, my. How the spaghetti mug complements that rick-rack.
I love her shiny, happy eyes in these two photos. Like I said. Giddy.

The second video is the third dress, which also doubles as a soccer outfit. Anyway, thanks again, Aunt Heather! We love them.

Catching up, To Be Continued...

Next up: Family Reunion, July 2010.